‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. She turned and looked at the red LED of the alarm clock that read 3:55. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. She knew the truth of it all right. Wood, now more buxom and more gorgeously arrayed than ever,—as well as a young and beautiful female, in whom he was at no loss to recognise the carpenter's daughter. CHAPTER V At dinner the spinsters invited Ruth to sit at their table, an invitation she accepted gratefully. ‘Oh, Lord,’ muttered Gerald, going instantly to her aid.
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